Monday, March 26, 2007

The Big Spoon called me today to return the book of sheet music Jen and I had given him prior to the wedding in hopes that he'd be able to work out some of the songs on guitar and play them at the ceremony. He didn't have the time (which was perfectly fine), and he just now got around to giving the book of songs back to me.

We ate lunch together and, after he left, I retreated to my office, opened the book of music, and attempted to see how much my sight reading skills had diminished since last I picked up Ye Olde Trumpete. I put the cd into my computer, looked for the fastest, most difficult song in the book, hit play, and hoped I'd be able to follow along with trumpet fingerings in my brain as the music played.

But I never got the chance. As the music sped forward, I realized that my eyesight has deteriorated to the point where I can no longer distinguish which notes are on the line and which are in the spaces. And I can't tell if a marking is a sharp or just an accidental.

This means I can't play the trumpet anymore. I'm only 29 and I already have to acquiesce to old age.

It's not devastating. I don't play music professionally. in fact, I've only busted out Ye Olde Trumpete a few times since I played in college, and I sound more and more like a dying cow each time. But it certainly is a sad thing to learn that what was once such an integral part of my life will never be again, no matter how much I want it to, unless I get new eyeballs or spontaneously learn how to play free form jazz.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Hey there, people. It's been a while since last I spoke, and a lot has happened in the interim. I've moved twice, I got married, and I spent an entire day at work listening to old broadcasts of "A Prairie Home Companion" online. That last one might sound lame to you, but who cares what you think, eh? It's better than listening to the drunken lady next door habitually call her insurance company to swear at them about their overinflated rates.

I liked the show so much, I even sent in a letter, which I usually only do when I'm mad about something (and rarely at that). And wouldn't you know it, they put my letter on the front page with a response from GK his self! Either that or they had some lowly intern do it. As of this post, my letter is #2 on the front page here, but you can still read it here once that goes the way of the dodo.

Marriage is good, too. I'd like to tell you all about the things I've learned thus far in my career as a newly minted husband. Unfortunately for you (and fortunately for me), that kind of knowledge isn't safe for all audiences.

Try getting that image out of your mind. I dare you!

P.S.I started counting backwards once I hit 27 so, yes, I'm still in my mid-twenties. Shut the hell up.

The Me

I'm a bald man with bad eyesight. I'm 5'11" and I eat chili with reckless abandon. I'm a Cincinnati Reds fan and lover of literature. I once tackled a midget. I work with computers but my computer rarely works. My ears ring, my feet hurt, and most popular music will make my toenails curl if the weather is right. I am hopeless when it comes to understanding women or economics or why the sky is blue instead of some other color. I enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of rain in the forest. I believe in God, but I sometimes wonder whether He believes in me. I watch television on Wednesdays and I listen to the radio when I'm in my car. My baseball coach used to tell me that I ran so slow he had to time me with a calendar and my band director once said I could be a professional cornet player if only I'd practice. I am madly in love with my wife and she is madly in love with the original CSI. I wake up each morning with a smile on my face because, even if it's cold and grey and rainy and dreary, the first thing I see in the morning is her face, and it is the most beautiful site in the world; especially after I put on my glasses.